Jack Sparrow: The Name, the Hat, Beckett and more
by danca.mach
Summary: How Jonathan Tweed became the one we all love, Captain Jack Sparrow. How did he get his hat, his tattoo, the beads in his hair? How did he meet Beckett, Tia Dalma and Gibbs? Find out...
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own anything form the Pirates. If I did, I woudn't write this..._

_This is about Jack Sparrow; or more accurately, how he came to be Jack Sparrow, the one we all love, in the first place. I'm trying to incorporate every aspect of Jack I can think of and make his background story. I hope you will like it. This chapter is just a sort of an introduction, I hope there will be more dialogues as I move on :)_

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It was another bright sunny day that found Jonathan Tweed sitting on a hill above the port, watching the graceful vessels elegantly glide through the waters to the horizon, sending gentle ripples away from their hulls to the ocean where they melted with the rest of the water again, watching the seagulls and sparrows fly freely over the heads of the busy bustling crowds, unloading the ships, wishing he was on one of them, heading straight out to the open sea, free as a bird.

Jonathan always used to come down to the docks and admire the ships, ever since he was a young boy. Sometimes the sailors would show him a few knots, and if he was lucky, a captain would take him aboard for a while. Jonathan remembered everything he was told, he dreamed of sailing on a magnificent ship out to the blue depths of the sea under the cloudless sky. Now his mother died, he lingered in his dreams even more and spent entire days watching the hustle near the ships, which was met with the utmost dislike from his father Teague, who has been trying for years to make Jonathan learn how to make swords, so he could one day take over the smithy. But Jonathan hated making swords; he ever made just one. Teague commented on it as being totally below average, as there was no gold laid into the handle and the whole sword was almost black and dull, even though it was well balanced.

"Jackie? Jackie?! Where the hell are ya, mate?!" Jonathan was disturbed by his father's voice out of his dreaming, stood up and quickly headed down the hill towards the docks without a backwards glance. When Teague reached the hill, he already mingled with the crowd. He wandered aimlessly around the piers, watching the sparrows soar freely high above the masts.

The more Jonathan hated making swords, the more he loved to fight with them. The problem was that Teague refused to teach Jonathan sword-fighting unless he agreed to learn how to make swords in the first place. And given that this particular British port was respectable, there remained only one way to learn. And that was at night, the only time when the respectable sailors were drunk enough to start fighting in the streets. The only thing for Jonathan to do was to grab his sword, sneak out of the house and hide near the pub, and watch the sailors. He would memorize every move, every step, every thrust and then practice until dawn against thin air.

One night he was on his way to the pub again, when a man rushed past him, almost knocking him over, pursued by another four. They caught up with him in front of the pub, and all of them drew their swords. As a dim light was cast over them, Jonathan could see that the pursued man was short, wearing a wig and a Navy uniform. His sword glinted when the light caught the blade. From the swaying of the remaining four, Jonathan could tell that they were drunk. Before he could notice anything else, the drunk sailors attacked. And before Jonathan could realize what he was doing, he found himself joining the Navy man's side, but matching the sailors' drunken style. The Navy man gave him a quick look of surprise, before lunging at his opponents.

It was Jonathan's first fight. It was soon over, and he didn't even know how, but they seemed to win, given that two of the sailors were lying on the ground, and the other two limping away, one clutching his arm and dragging his sword through the dusty street.

"Not much of a style, but it seems efficient. Cutler Beckett." He said as he sheathed his sword and extended his hand to shake it with Jonathan's. A slow grin spread over Jonathan's face, as comprehension dawned upon him. The opportune moment. The sea… freedom… the ships… Just not to ruin it. He hesitated.

"Jack Sparrow." And shook Beckett's hand. Jonathan saw Beckett raise an eyebrow on hearing the peculiar name, and smiled. Jack Sparrow sounded good. Not Jackie. Not ever again.

"I owe you a favor, Jack Sparrow." Beckett said, straightened his lopsided wig and without another word turned on his heel and walked away.

_Sooner than you think, mate._

_Ships__…__ Sea__…__ Freedom__…__ Free as a sparrow__…__ Horizon__ Cloudless skies…__ Jack Sparrow._

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_OK, let me know what you think please _


	2. Chapter 2

Early the next day, Jack went to the docks. The man he met yesterday, Cutler Beckett, was wearing a Navy uniform, therefore he was sure he would find him on one of the ships anchored in the port. He stopped a Navy man and asked.

"Cutler Beckett? He's the captain of the _Invincible_." And pointed to the newest and grandest looking ship at the end of the pier. Jack grinned. Captain. It was more than he could hope for. It meant that Beckett could take him aboard, let him sail on his ship. He quickened his pace and soon arrived at the gangplank. The _Invincible_ sat majestically on the water, little waves gently rocking her. She looked brand new; pearly white sails were being unfolded by the sailors.

_'__bout__ to sail away._ _Even better, I can sail away right now, _thought Jack and made his way up the gangplank. He arrived onboard, but nobody paid him the slightest attention. Everyone was busy preparing the ship to set sails. He took a look around. The ship really must have been brand new; even the deck was not yet scratched and the wood was shining in the weak morning sun, like it was polished just a while ago. He took a few steps towards the railing and took a look at the open ocean from the starboard side. It was dark blue, with white foaming wave crests. A beautiful sight. Above the masts gulls were screaming.

Then he remembered what he was here for, and looked towards the helm to see if Beckett was there. He was, standing with his back to Jack, in his grey wig and a Navy uniform, talking to one of his Lieutenants, holding a spyglass. Jack made directly for him. Beckett turned at the sound of footsteps.

"Yes?" He asked curtly.

"Er… Jack Sparrow, yer remember me?" Asked Jack hopefully and flashed an innocent smile. Beckett eyed him up and down – a thin young lad, not more than eighteen, with piercing black eyes and long black hair that reached to his shoulders and looked like it didn't see a comb in a long time.

"Yes, I remember." He folded his arms behind his back. The Lieutenant stepped back a few paces to give his captain privacy while discussing whatever business he had with this man.

"I came for the favor." Another grin.

"Straight to the business, I see." Beckett's mouth twisted a smile. "What would you like the favor to be?"

"Well, I was kinda hopin' yer could take me onboard and let me sail with yer." Asked Jack uncertainly, but flashed another smile nevertheless. Beckett eyed Jack again. He has always considered himself a good judge of character. And something about Jack made him decide that it may prove useful to have him aboard. _Furthermore, it was always an advantage to have an unregistered man onboard to do jobs, well, let's say, less appealing, and if they __go__ wrong, there is nothing to stop me dispose of this man silently and without evidence. So let's just Sparrow __think__ he is receiving a favor, when in fact time will prove that he is doing me one._

"Do you know how to sail?"

"Aye." Answered Jack proudly, remembering the times he spent observing the sailors at work and listening to them as they explained to him how a ship is run, but knowing that he never really sailed.

_A small lie won't hurt._

Beckett turned to his Lieutenant. "Lieutenant, fetch Mr. Sparrow a uniform and show him everything he needs to know." Then he turned back to Jack and shook his hand. "Welcome aboard." Jack clasped his hands together in a pray-like gesture and bowed his head a little.

"Thanks very much." He turned to follow the Lieutenant when Beckett called after him, "We are heading to the Caribbean." _A nice little place for less appealing jobs._

Jack's dream couldn't have come more true. His dreamed up images of clear blue waters and cloudless skies were coming closer with every wave they sailed.

When he returned on deck in a new uniform, he looked oddly out of place. He insisted on keeping his sword, whose appearance clashed with the shining blades of all of the other swords aboard. Jack also refused to wear a wig, but it proved impossible to make it last on his head, as his hair was all over the place even though Jack tied it back, which gave him the appearance as if he was wearing a wig anyway.

As he was a hard worker and a witty companion, he soon became quite popular among the crew. He also learned very quickly how to balance himself on the rocking ship, developing a kind of drunken style of walking that made him distinguishable among the sailors and combined nicely with his drunken style of sword fighting.

The journey was progressing without any problems, and the Caribbean was steadily drawing closer and closer every day.

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_thx for reading, please drop a line what you think. the following chapters should hopefully get more interesting, but I feel I need to write this profoundly to do Jack's background justice :)_


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